


Good With Kids

by Black_Crystal_Dragon



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Babysitting, Character Study, De-Aged Ianto Jones, During Canon, F/M, Gen, Good Dad Rhys, Kid Fic, Mid-Canon, POV Jack Harkness, POV Rhys Williams, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-12
Updated: 2008-08-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Crystal_Dragon/pseuds/Black_Crystal_Dragon
Summary: Ianto gets turned into a three-year-old by aliens and needs babysitting for the day. Rhys-centric.





	Good With Kids

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ice_Elf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Elf/gifts).



> Set somewhere during Season 2. This was written during a Doctor Who/Torchwood themed "road-trip" style holiday to London and Cardiff.
> 
> Archived to AO3 on 10 July 2019 with a couple of tiny edits.

Rhys was not happy. The day so far hadn’t been good. For a start, he had been woken at three in the morning by Gwen, rushing off on some work-related, saving-the-world lark – again – bloody Torchwood – and he hadn’t been able to get to sleep again afterwards. Things hadn’t got much better at work, either. The drivers were kicking up a fuss again, which was the last thing he needed today of all days.

And now that smarmy git Jack Harkness was in his office, trying to look like butter wouldn’t melt, while Gwen tried to explain why there was a sniffling toddler clinging to Jack’s trouser leg.

“Look, Rhys, we have to go and figure this out – otherwise, Ianto might be stuck this way for good!” Gwen exclaimed, her eyes wide. Rhys sighed and folded his arms.

“I just don’t know, Gwen – this is an office, not a kids’ play area. And there are lorries just outside. It’s not safe. I don’t want him wandering off and getting hurt.”

“It’s safer than the Hub!” Gwen pointed out in a stage-whisper.

“Anyway, he won’t wander off,” Jack assured him, crouching down and swinging the child into his arms to address him. “Will you?”

Ianto – the child Ianto had become – shook his head. Jack gave Rhys a ‘told you so’ sort of look; Rhys remained unconvinced.

“Yeah, but look at him – he’s not spoken a word since he came in here! How am I supposed to look after a mute three-year-old?”

“You’re good with kids, Rhys!” Gwen wheedled, just as Jack snapped indignantly, “He’s shy, not mute!”

Rhys held up his hands. “OK! All right! I’ll look after him for – but if he wanders off or gets lost or doesn’t tell me when he needs the bathroom or whatever, it’s not going to be my fault!”

Gwen beamed and kissed Rhys on the cheek. “Thank you. It’ll only be for a couple of hours, I promise.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack said as he passed Ianto over and gave the boy a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Ianto – be good for Uncle Rhys. Do as he says.”

Ianto nodded, clinging to Rhys’ collar. He watched Jack until he reached the door, then reached out with one hand for the window. Rhys carried him over and let Ianto rest one small palm against the Perspex while he watched Jack get into the SUV with Gwen and drive away. Ianto watched until the car was out of sight, then promptly stuck his thumb in his mouth, leant onto Rhys’ shoulder and fell asleep.

~

An hour later, Rhys looked up when he heard Ianto yawn from over on the sofa. He got up, abandoning his paperwork, and crouched down beside the little boy’s makeshift bed. Ianto blinked at him.

“Where’s Jack?”

He sounded frightened, his voice quavering slightly. Rhys smiled reassuringly, relieved that the boy had started talking to him. “Jack’s gone to find a way to make you into a grown-up again.”

“Want Jack,” Ianto insisted, bottom lip beginning to tremble. Rhys held out his arms to Ianto. The little boy needed no more encouragement; he climbed onto his knees and crawled over to Rhys, placing his arms around his neck.

“Jack will be back for you soon,” Rhys explained, keeping his voice calm and soothing while Ianto sniffled against his collar. “Tell you what – while we’re waiting, why don’t you and me go and have a look at the lorries outside, eh?”

Ianto leant back in Rhys’ gentle hug as he was picked up. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he bravely wiped them away on his sleeve and nodded. Rhys gave him a squeeze and a smile, before heading out to hopefully entertain his small, distressed charge.

~

Jack returned, without Gwen, at four o’clock. Rhys’ secretary waved him through, smiling as if the biggest joke in the world was on her boss. When Jack pulled open the door to Rhys’ office, he understood why.

Rhys was lying flat on his stomach, a model lorry in his right hand, making ‘brrrm’ noises, while Ianto sat opposite, snaking his model up and down in front of Rhys.

“I see you two made friends,” Jack commented with a smile. Rhys jumped and scrambled up onto his knees, immediately berating Jack for neglecting to knock – but Jack’s attention was focused elsewhere.

As soon as he had spotted Jack in the doorway, Ianto had shot across the room, as fast as his legs could manage, and wrapped both his arms around the captain’s knees. Laughing, Jack prised him off and lifted him up for a proper cuddle. Ianto pressed a sloppy kiss to Jack’s cheek. “Missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Jack grinned, squeezing the boy. “But you had a good time with Uncle Rhys, right?”

“I had a nap, and then he showed me the lorries, and we went for a ride in one, and Uncle Rhys got chips, and then we came back, and – look – Uncle Rhys has these toys, and we’re playing with them!” Ianto explained excitedly, so quickly that his tongue tripped over the words. “Do you want to play, Jack?”

“Sorry, Ianto,” Jack replied, real sadness in his voice. “But Owen wants to take another look at you.”

“He was mean to me!” Ianto protested, squirming, as Rhys climbed to his feet and tried to regain his lost dignity. “I want to stay here and play with Uncle Rhys!”

“But Uncle Rhys has work to do, Ianto,” Jack explained softly, attempting to keep hold of Ianto, who was trying his best to squirm out of Jack’s arms. Rhys grabbed the boy as he began to tumble out of Jack’s grip, pushing him back against the captain’s chest.

“Listen, Ianto, I bet Owen was just trying to help,” Rhys said. He added in a stage whisper intended for Ianto’s ears alone, “And if you’re brave, I bet Jack will buy you an ice-cream later.”

Jack chuckled. “Course I will! Now come on, he’ll just get even grouchier if we keep him waiting …”

“OK, Jack,” Ianto said reluctantly. “Bye-bye, Uncle Rhys! Can we play again soon?”

“Of course we can,” Rhys assured Ianto. The three of then went out to the car together, Jack buckling Ianto into a child-seat in the back of the SUV. He closed the door and flashed Rhys a smile before he turned to walk around the car, but Rhys grabbed his arm.

“Listen – I meant that, before. If you need him looking after again …”

“Thanks for the offer,” Jack replied, “But I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We think we can reverse the process that made him this way – he’ll be back to normal in the next couple of hours …”

“Right,” said Rhys, trying to hide his disappointment. “Well, I suppose that’s for the best …”

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “If it helps at all, I’m going to miss the adorable little guy, too … And if it doesn’t work, we’ll know who to come to.”

Rhys hummed in agreement, but remained non-committal. Jack smiled, thanked him one last time and hurried around the car to get in. Rhys waved at Ianto through the window, then backed off, giving Jack room to reverse. This time, it was his turn to watch the SUV until it was out of sight.

~

That night, when she got home, Gwen slid her arms around Rhys from behind and gave him a squeeze. He continued to stir the pasta, slightly annoyed that she had once again had to work overtime. He wondered if Torchwood even had official working hours, or if they all just had to turn up whenever there was work to be done. It certainly seemed that way. He wondered if they ever – ever – had quiet periods.

“You finally decided to come home, then,” he grouched half-heartedly. His final hour at the office had dragged after Ianto’s departure, and all he had wanted was to come home and find Gwen waiting.

“Sorry. I had to wait and see that Ianto was going to be OK …”

“He is all right?” Rhys asked, knowing that he shouldn’t be so concerned about the boy – the boy who was most likely a grown man again now – but unable to help himself. He twisted around to see Gwen’s face; she was smiling.

“He’s fine. When he came back, he wouldn’t shut up about you!” she grinned, evidently proud of him. “It was all Uncle Rhys this and Uncle Rhys that! Sounds like he got almost as attached to you as he was to Jack …”

“Yeah, well,” Rhys smiled, turning back to the pasta. “Like you said – I’m good with kids.”

Gwen released him and took hold of his shoulders, pulling him down slightly so that she could kiss his cheek.

“You are,” she murmured. “And you’re going to be a brilliant dad.”

“Mm,” Rhys replied, concentrating on the pasta. Then he realised what Gwen had said and turned sharply. She had already disappeared into the bedroom. He shouted, “There’s not something you want to tell me, is there?”

“No!” Gwen’s laughter drifted through from their bedroom. “I’m just saying – one day!”

“Right,” Rhys muttered, picking up the pan of pasta and taking it over to the sink to drain it. He was just spooning sauce over the fusilli when Gwen returned in a different t-shirt and no shoes. He smiled at her as she took her place at the counter, and finished serving their dinner.

When he had brought the food over and placed it down on the counter, Gwen grabbed his hands, squeezing gently. “Thank you. Really – thank you. You didn’t have to, and I know it was a lot to ask …”

Rhys smiled, taking his seat beside her.

“He didn’t take that much looking after,” he admitted. “To be honest he made an otherwise dull and boring day quite … fun.”

Gwen grinned. “Right, then! When we do have kids, we know what to do with them – send them to work with you, instead of to a nursery!”

“Hey!” Rhys protested, knowing that she was only teasing but unable to let the joke slide. “I know I’m not saving the planet every other day of the week, but I do have work to do, you know!”

Gwen batted him playfully on the arm, picking up her fork. Rhys smiled and grabbed his own utensils. To be perfectly honest, his day with Ianto had convinced him – as if he had needed any convincing – that even if Gwen wasn’t prepared to give up her job to raise their kids, he would be fully prepared to consider it.

Still, he wouldn’t admit as much; he would make it sound as if he was grudgingly giving up his work to accommodate her. Maybe that way she would hurry home sometimes, instead of staying out until all hours with the rest of Torchwood.

~

The weekend passed fairly uneventfully – for Rhys, at any rate. From what he could tell, Gwen and the rest of the Torchwood team were rushed off their feet, trying to locate the aliens that had the technology to both regress a body into childhood and leave the mind intact, although locked away. When Gwen rang to say she wouldn’t be coming home on Saturday night, he went out on the lash with some blokes from work, and lay in bed until noon the next day.

By Monday morning, he had put the incidents of Friday out of his mind.

Captain Harkness had graciously given his team a couple of days off – barring emergencies, as always – and so while Rhys was creeping out of the flat as eight o’clock, Gwen was still fast asleep in bed, recovering from her working weekend.

Rhys got to work – twenty minutes late, thanks to the council digging up random bits of road during rush-hour – feeling rather frazzled. He snapped a good-morning to his secretary, but didn’t give her a chance to speak before he barged into his office.

He was surprised, therefore, to find someone already there, sitting quietly on the sofa. It took Rhys a moment to recognise the dark-haired young man who rose to his feet when Rhys walked in. Then he realised that it was Ianto Jones – the adult Ianto Jones, wearing jeans, a dark blue t-shirt and a black jacket – looking nervous and rather embarrassed.

“Oh,” Rhys said, stopping in the doorway. “Hello. Didn’t recognise you without your suit …”

Ianto laughed politely while Rhys went over to his desk. Once Rhys had made himself comfortable in his chair, Ianto perched on the very edge of the sofa, leaning towards the other man. Rhys smiled. “So …”

“I came to thank you,” Ianto said quickly, staring at the carpet. “Jack told me that Gwen persuaded you to look after me. I don’t really remember, only sort of impressions, really – but Jack said you did a really good job, and I thought I ought to thank you in person …”

Rhys smiled, feeling rather awkward. “Well, you know, it was nothing really …”

Ianto shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Suddenly, he seemed to remember something; he pulled one of Rhys’ models out of his pocket and placed it carefully on the desk. “Uh, I found this in the Hub, when I was tidying. Thought you’d want it back …”

“Oh, yeah,” Rhys grinned. He had forgotten that Ianto had made off with one of his models. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Ianto smiled. “I don’t remember a lot from the other day, but I remember being happy, and most of that was down to you. Even though they sort of dumped me on you, you still did your best to entertain me with what you had, and … well. Thank you.”

Rhys fought a blush, busying himself with the model, pretending to check its wheels and then bending to put it away with the others in the bottom drawer of his desk. He straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Right, well. I’d best let you get on …” Ianto said, backing towards the door. Rhys nodded, smiling and giving him a jaunty wave. Ianto, however, paused in the doorway and turned back. “Rhys … you’ll be a brilliant father, one day. One of the best.”

This time, Rhys could not hide his embarrassment, nor his suppressed delight. He beamed. “Well, uh – thank you?”

Ianto smiled at him one last time, then turned and shut the door. For the rest of the day, Rhys could not wipe the silly smile off his face.


End file.
